Page 181 of Boss of the Year

And so, just like that, I had a future. I would take another week to put things into storage and make sure Lea had her own things in order. And I would close the doors of the past behind me so I could walk through the new ones waiting for me to open.

When Daniel walked into the ramen shop, I was struck by how different he looked from the last time I’d seen him, only a week earlier. Gone was the disheveled drunk who had passed out on the couch in Lucas’s suite. The perfectly groomed, shining veneer of a man was back. The only signs of the fight were the remnants of a black eye and a cut over his cheekbone, which was nearly healed. With hair tousled just so, expensive jeans, and a cashmere sweater that weren’t trying too hard, he was every inch the golden boy so many thought him to be.

But I noticed a sadness in his blue eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it had always been there, and I’d been too blinded by the facade to notice.

One thing was for sure. For the first time in ten years of knowing him, I felt nothing beyond the kind of appreciation I might have for a nice piece of art. I also felt a little pity, maybe, for the shortcomings I now knew he had.

“Heya, Marie.” He slid into the seat across from me with the practiced smile I’d once found so irresistible. “You look incredible. As always.”

Inwardly, I frowned. Had his compliments always sounded that shallow? Because I knew that Ididn’tlook incredible. It was almost that time of the month, which meant my breasts were sore, the zit on my cheek wouldn’t go away, and my stomach was bloated and annoyed. I was dressed in one of my old sack dresses and a mustard-colored cardigan simply because they were the most comfortable things I owned, and while I had still scrunched my hair and put on makeup the way Louis taught me, everything had taken less than ten minutes.

Maybe I didn’t look like Marie the wallflower anymore, but I was a long way from the glamorous girl who had sat beside Daniel on the plane back from Paris. Closer to where I belonged, somewhere in between.

“Thanks.” I opened my menu. “How are you feeling? After…everything.”

“Better, thanks. Man, that was a wild night, huh?” He flagged down the waitress immediately. “Could I get a double gin and tonic? Top shelf.”

A double gin and tonic. At two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.

He arched a brow at me. “You want anything? On me, of course.”

I shook my head. “No. I, um, actually don’t drink much.”

“Oh, yeah? Good for you. I should probably cut back, but y’know, you only live once, right?” I watched him scan the menu with far more attention than it deserved. “The tonkatsu looks amazing. Do you think they make their own noodles? I bet they do. This is exactly the kind of authentic place that would, don’t you think?”

He was nervous, I realized. I’d always thought Daniel could charm anyone with his confidence, but now I could see the genial chatter as the defense mechanism it was, covering his deficits.

It was exhausting to watch.

I felt sorry for him.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I said gently.

“Do what, gorgeous?” His smile lost a bit of its shine.

I set my menu on the table. “The whole ‘I’m the guy’ routine. The nicknames, the charm offensive. A week ago, I watched you maul your brother because you realized we slept together, then pass out on his couch. This isn’t necessary.”

Daniel’s carefully constructed mask cracked, and I glimpsed something younger, less polished, peeking through.

When his veil fell completely, his entire being sagged.

“Sorry.” For the first time since he’d sat down, his voice sounded genuine. “I guess I’m not sure what to say. After everything.”

“You asked me to meet. Maybe just say whatever’s actually on your mind.” I looked pointedly at the menu. “Even I don’t think noodles are that exciting. And I’m a chef.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay. I can try that.”

We ordered—shoyu ramen for me, miso for him—and sat in silence for a moment while Daniel sipped at his gin and tonic, though he didn’t down it the way I expected.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said after half of it was gone. “For the way I acted in Paris. Or really, for the entire last month,leading you on like that. I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but I can be kind of a jackass.”

“Especially when you’re drunk,” I agreed.

His blue eyes darkened for a moment, like he wanted to argue. But he’d already given up the ghost.

“I do drink a lot,” he admitted. “More when I’m scared. And right now, I’m really fucking scared.”

“About the wedding?” I had to ask. TheTimeshad run an announcement on Sunday. The quickie wedding was happening at the Lyonses’ Hamptons estate in a few weeks.